


‘You Crushing on My Brother, Mickey?’

by ronans



Series: Prompts [21]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Crushes, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:42:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt:</strong> Mickey is Lip’s best friend and has a crush on Lip’s younger brother Ian, and there's fluff and kisses and yeah - <a href="http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com/post/112665551879/prompt-mickey-is-lips-best-friend-and-has-a-crush">Anon</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	‘You Crushing on My Brother, Mickey?’

**Author's Note:**

> I guess their ages are like season 1 / 2  
> Also I had to do the cliché Van Damme reference, I'm sorry

‘You better put some clothes on; Mickey’s coming over,’ Lip says idly as he rummages through his own clothes, looking for a sweater. Ian slaps him around the back of the head, his other hand still holding up the towel that’s loosely wrapped around his waist. Lip smirks and yanks a random jumper on over his head before jogging down the stairs to the living room. ‘C’mon, bud, up. I’m gonna need the TV.’

Carl flips Lip off and continues watching what appears to be a low budget horror movie remake if the ketchup-like blood is anything to go by. Lip frowns at the screen and then tries to steal the remote out of his brother’s hand. Carl’s possessive, though, and manages to keep his hold on it. ‘No! They’re just about to chop the cheerleader’s head off.’

‘Jesus, fine,’ Lip relents, scowling at the shitty effects taking place on screen.

The smug smile that crosses Carl’s lips at the victory just makes him roll his eyes. Lip’s head whips in the direction of the door as a loud knock rings out. Carl shifts so he’s lying completely across the sofa.

‘If that’s Mickey, there’s no fucking way he’s sitting here.’

Lip smiles in amusement as he backs towards the door. ‘This because of that one time he didn’t let you have a puff of his joint?’

Carl crosses his arms awkwardly because of the position he’s in and doesn’t answer. Lip just laughs and finally reaches the door, unlatching it and revealing Mickey Milkovich.

‘Hey,’ Lip greets with a smile, pulling the door open fully so Mickey can enter the house. ‘The stuff’s upstairs in Ian and Carl’s room.’

Mickey nods slowly and then follows Lip up to the second floor, briefly taking the time to frown at the TV screen.

‘What the fuck’s that kid watchin’?’ Mickey asks as they enter the bedroom, Mickey unceremoniously throwing his jacket on Ian’s bed and going to lean against the chest of drawers Lip had just taken his weed stash out of.

‘Fuck knows,’ Lip mutters, taking a seat on Ian’s bed. ‘I don’t tend to question Carl’s movie watching habits unless I want a bat to the knee.’

Mickey chuckles and nods in thanks as Lip passes him a pre-rolled joint.

‘You still fucking Karen?’ Mickey asks after taking a deep drag. They don’t really talk about Karen that much, simply because the topic doesn’t normally seem to interest Mickey, so Lip’s a little surprised he initiated the conversation.

‘Dude, she’s the easiest lay ever, of course I am.’ Mickey snickers quietly in response and inhales again.

‘Why’d you always have to be so damn disrespectful about the girls you’re seeing?’ Ian asks as he makes a sudden appearance in the doorway, practically pushing past Mickey to get to his bedside table. Lip watches as Mickey almost chokes at how close and shirtless Ian is.

‘I thought I told you to put some clothes on earlier,’ Lip chuckles.

Angrily, Ian pulls a shirt out from his drawer and glares at Lip. ‘Well I would have if you hadn’t stolen my fucking sweater. It’s obviously not yours.’ He jabs a finger at Lip’s chest.

‘Yeah, I noticed…’ Both Ian and Lip stare at Mickey’s contribution in surprise and Mickey seems to check himself. ‘Uh, I mean, when the fuck would _you_ wear a sweater with fuckin’ tiny penguins on it?’ he directs at Lip before shifting his eyes away uncomfortably.

Ian rolls his eyes and grins, tension gone. ‘Shut up, man, penguins are cool.’

‘Yeah, in the fuckin’ North Pole, maybe.’

‘Actually-‘

‘Jesus, Ian, are you gonna take a fucking hit or what?’ Lip sighs, holding it out for Ian to take. Ian purses his mouth and then quickly puts on his t-shirt, taking the lit joint off his brother and placing it between his lips before sucking on it.

The way Mickey’s gaze is completely focused on Ian’s mouth as he blows out smoke isn’t lost on Lip.

*

‘Carl’s not choosing the movie, right?’ Mickey clarifies as he throws himself down on the Gallagher couch next to Lip.

‘Nah, Ian’s choosing.’ Mickey lifts his eyebrows and stares at Lip like a deer caught in the headlights. ‘What?’

‘Uh, nothin’…’ Lip waits for Mickey to inevitably continue. ‘So, Ian’s… Ian’s watching it with us?’

Lip frowns at Mickey. ‘You think I’d let him choose the movie if he wasn’t actually gonna be watching the movie?’

‘…Right…’

‘The fuck’s up with you today?’

‘Nothin’, Christ, you about to psycho analyse me, College boy?’

‘Not in College yet,’ Ian chirps as he enters the room, chucking a bag of chips at Lip before slumping into the armchair.

‘Yeah, but we all know it’s gonna fuckin’ happen,’ Mickey grumbles under his breath, ripping open the bag and shoving a few corn chips into his mouth.

‘Can I just ride out High School first, please?’ Lip says, shaking his head and lobbing the remote over at Ian. ‘And can we talk about this stuff after Ian’s put on his piece of shit movie?’

‘Hey, Van Damme’s work can in no way be classed as a piece of shit.’

Mickey throws his head back against the back of the couch and lets out a mighty groan. Lip barely suppresses a smile at the fact it makes Ian jump and swallow like his throat’s suddenly dry. ‘Van fuckin’ Damme? Are you for real?’

Ian clears his throat and scowls at Mickey. ‘What’s your problem with Van Damme?’

‘You’re saying Van Damme too much, it sounds weird now,’ Lip says pointlessly, because neither his brother nor his best friend are listening to him.

‘I’m gonna put on _Double Impact_ , and you’re gonna like it,’ Ian says, nearly tripping over one of Liam’s toys in his eagerness to reach the DVD player.

‘I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it, Gallagher, and it was shit.’

Ian swivels round with wide, offended eyes. ‘What the fuck did you just say? Nope. You're watching this.'

Lip closes his eyes and lets out a long breath, mentally preparing himself for the viewing. Once the film’s started, it takes about ten minutes of Mickey being surprisingly un-vocal about his opinions for Lip to realise Mickey’s eyes aren’t actually on the screen, but rather on Lip’s younger brother. _Oh_.

A smile breaks out on his face as he starts figuring out how he’s going to bring something like that up. After another five minutes of Mickey staring, and Ian looking very much like it’s taking every fibre of his willpower to _not_ turn around and stare, Lip decides to just confront Mickey – he’d had the talk with Ian long ago.

Lip rolls his eyes and shifts on the sofa until he’s completely facing Mickey. Mickey _smoothly_ looks back at the TV screen at the same time as Lip moves. He stares at Mickey for a few moments until he finally sighs and glares over at Lip.

‘The fuck you starin’ at, moron?’

Lip smirks and then says ‘Ian, could you get us some beers?’ without breaking eye contact with his friend. Mickey visibly swallows and Ian lets out an annoyed huff of air, heaving himself up from the armchair and going to the kitchen. He doesn’t press pause because he’s seen this movie about a hundred times already. Lip waits for Ian to be out of earshot and then quirks a knowing eyebrow.

‘ _What_?’

‘You crushing on my brother, Mickey?’

The colour drains from Mickey’s face but he tries his best to hide it, clearing his throat and shuffling around a little. ‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.’

‘Okay,’ Lip replies, grinning. Ian comes back into the room, arms laden with beers.

‘You got legs, right? So maybe next time you can get them yourself,’ Ian grumbles, throwing a beer can at Mickey and then Lip before he slaps his forehead with the heel of his hand. ‘Oh, or, _maybe_ , you can just straight up tell me to fuck off and give you some privacy.’

Lip grins again and cracks open his can, throwing back a gulp. ‘Thanks, little brother.’

Ian shakes his head and laughs as he retakes his seat. ‘You’re such an asshole.’

‘Agreed,’ Mickey says through a burp.

‘Oh yeah? Anything else you want to agree with while we’re on the subject of Ian?’

Mickey grits his teeth and glares at Lip. ‘The fuck does that even mean?’ he bites out.

Lip shrugs, cranking up the asshole persona. ‘I dunno, Mickey, what do you want it to mean?’

Ian’s eyebrows are raised as he flicks his eyes back and forth between Lip and Mickey. ‘Oookay.’

Mickey darts his gaze to Ian before scowling at the couch cushions.

‘Ian, you fucked any dudes recently?’ Lip asks casually after a long beat of silence. Both Ian and Mickey simultaneously splutter and cough over their sips of beer.

‘Jesus, Lip,’ Ian mutters as he wipes his mouth with his sleeve.

‘We’re all friends here,’ Lip says, shrugging again.

‘Debatable,’ Mickey grinds out. Lip can practically read Mickey’s thoughts, he’s just radiating discomfort. He is his best friend, after all, so he decides he should probably drop it now.

But just because he’s dropping it now and moving on the conversation to another topic, doesn’t mean he’s leaving the information alone for good. He happens to know two gay dudes from the South Side who he cares about are into each other. He’s not letting that shit go.

*

Saturday nights usually find Mickey over at the Gallagher house getting high with Lip and sometimes Ian, but he hasn’t heard anything from the other boy all day. The radio silence is weird because Lip’s usually always chattering on at him via text about planning a scam or his latest hookups even if he’s not arranging to do something with Mickey.

At 9PM, Mandy walks past Mickey’s room only to back track with a frown on her face, peering through the doorway at her brother.

‘The fuck’re you doing here?’

Mickey lifts his head up from his pillow a fraction. He’s been lying down bored as fuck for hours. He should probably look into getting more friends or, hell, just learning how to do shit by himself again. ‘What do you mean? I’m in my own fuckin’ bedroom.’

‘Exactly… Why? It’s Saturday, you’ve usually fucked off to Lip’s by now…’ The suspicion in her tone has no right being there; Mickey can do stuff on his own, he’s not fucking attached by the hip to his best friend.

‘I guess he got other plans,’ Mickey replies like his sister’s stupid. She rolls her eyes and then bounces into the room, collapsing next to Mickey on top of the covers.

‘Lip never has other plans,’ she says with a smirk.

‘Yeah, well,’ Mickey replies, lifting up his shoulders and then letting out a long exhale. Mandy elevates an eyebrow and opens her mouth to say something when Mickey’s phone buzzes from its place on his nightstand. She grins and nudges his side. ‘Guessing that’s him then. Have fun.’

‘Fuck off,’ he replies without venom. He reaches over to pick up his cell and unlocks it, squinting at the brightness of the screen as Mandy gets up off the bed and leaves the room. He’s presented with the contact name he put in for Lip when he was drunk and a promising text.

****

**_From: ipL_ **

_Yo, you should come over_

Now Mickey’s not proud at how fast he gets up from his bed. It’s not like he’s at Lip’s beck and call, he’s just bored as fuck with nothing better to do. _Anything’s_ better than just sitting around with shit all to do. He pockets a pack of smokes and his phone, grabs a lighter and then makes his way out of the house, Terry safely passed out on the sofa in a deep sleep.

It’s not too cold outside since they’re moving out of winter and into spring, but he still wishes he’d thought to put on a fucking coat over his hoodie. Oh _shit_ , this isn’t even his hoodie, he’s pretty sure it’s Ian’s.

He takes a deep breath before knocking on the front door, hoping it’s not Ian, _praying_ it’s not Ian just so he can avoid any awkwardness surrounding the fact that he seems to have accidentally stolen his clothing. Considering the damn _crush_ he’s got on the redhead, it comes off as kind of more creepy than casual.

So of course Ian’s the one to open the fucking door, but Micky instantly forgets the whole hoodie dilemma when he takes in the tight jeans Ian’s wearing. Why _the fuck_ is he wearing tight jeans, he never normally does, it’s like he’s purposefully trying to show off to Mickey what he can’t have.

‘Uh, hi?’ Ian says, not-so-subtly looking Mickey up and down with a confused expression. Kinda makes Mickey want to blush, kinda makes him want to be swallowed into the ground.

He scratches his jaw nervously and clears his throat. ‘Lip told me to come over. So… You gonna let me in?’

‘Why… would he do that, he said he was going out with Karen tonight, I’m the only one home.'

‘Are you fucking kid- Uh… Yeah, okay. I’ll see ya, or whatever.’ He turns away and only manages to get down two steps before Ian’s calling out to him.

‘Hey, wait, you can still… You can still come in, if you want?’ He sounds slightly _nervous_ if Mickey’s hearing’s correct.

Mickey furrows his brow and turns back to face Ian. He’s biting his lip but still looks expectant, and how the fuck can Mickey turn that down? His resolve was pretty non-existent in the first place.

‘Sure, man. You got weed, right?’

Ian titters and rolls his eyes. ‘That’s all I’m good for, huh?’

Mickey frowns as he slowly makes his way back up the steps until he’s stood right in front of Ian. He wonders if Ian had Saturday ROTC training today. He wonders if Ian went for a jog today. He wonders if Ian knows he notices.

‘No.’

Ian looks a little shocked at Mickey’s answer, probably because all he really knows of Mickey is when Mickey’s with Lip… when Mickey’s basically all cynicism and all talk about fucking girls.

‘I could put on a movie?’

Mickey grins and shakes his head, taking a seat on the couch. ‘No fuckin’ way am I being put through your shit taste in movies again.’

‘I thought you _loved_ my movies?’ Ian chuckles, sitting down next to Mickey on the sofa. Mickey kind of wishes he’d gone for the armchair like normal, but, of course, Lip’s not there to act as a buffer, Lip’s not there to make it socially acceptable for Ian to sit as far away from Mickey as possible. Fuck.

Once Ian’s sat beside him, everything goes quiet and there’s barely any space between them on the couch. Why does the fucking air suddenly feel so thick? Why are Mickey’s palms starting to sweat? And why _the fuck_ is Ian looking at him like that? He actually looks like he’s in pain.

‘Look, did I do somethin’ to upset you or what-‘

Mickey can’t even finish speaking before abruptly getting lap full of Ian Gallagher. Ian’s lips are pretty damn soft and Mickey’s brain allows himself to analyse the feel of them, rather than putting out the message to reciprocate. Ian pulls off with a smacking sound and stares down at Mickey with unbelievably wide eyes, eyes full of panic and rejection. But… he doesn’t move off Mickey’s lap and that mostly could be to do with the fact that Mickey’s clamped his hands around Ian’s hips without even realising. _Shit_. How the fuck did they get here?

‘You’re wearing my hoodie,’ Ian croaks, trying to slice through the built up tension and awkwardness. Mickey glances down at himself and, fuck, he knew that would come up.

‘Yeah,’ he mutters. There's another long, drawn out silence and Mickey's dying a little.

‘I’ve liked you for a while,’ Ian finally says. Mickey can pinpoint the exact moment his brain implodes.

‘ _Liked_ me?’ He’s still holding Ian’s hips, holy fuck, why won’t he let go? ‘For a _while_?’ He knows why. He knows it’s because he wants Ian to kiss him again, because he’s never really thought he’d be into kissing but he definitely wants to try with Ian. And it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before.

Ian squeezes his eyes shut. ‘Yeah.’

‘Uh… Same.’

Ian’s eyes snap open and he looks so fucking stunned. ‘You have?’

Apparently Mickey no longer has a control over his vocal chords because he ends up replying: ‘For a long fuckin’ time, yeah.’

‘Woah,’ Ian responds. And it’s that fucking simple. No, it’s not like Mickey’s just let go of his biggest secret, something he hadn’t out rightly told even his best friend – but there’s no fucking doubt in his mind that Lip orchestrated this whole thing. It’s not like Mickey’s just been told that he’s _wanted_ by someone as good as Ian Gallagher. It’s just… simple. But it’s the most freeing fucking thing he’s ever felt.

Tentatively, Mickey stretches up and connects his mouth to Ian’s, because why the fuck not. They’re both into this, they’ve admitted it. Now Mickey feels like he can go after what he wants.  

Okay, now he definitely knows that Ian’s shocked and confused, because Ian’s slower to kiss back, Ian’s frowning and bewildered, like his head can’t match up all of the events that have taken place between him opening the door for Mickey and inviting him in and now. Eventually, his brain catches up and he shuffles closer to Mickey, sliding his hand up Mickey’s arm to rest at the back of his neck.

Mickey’s sure he’s leaving bruises on Ian’s hips, but he still doesn’t let go, instead softening his grip and pulling Ian even closer. He’s never had this, he’s never been gentle, and he’s definitely never let himself be kissed so sweetly, but Ian’s doing it.

After a while, he feels Ian start to smile into the kiss and then he pulls off, moving his lips along Mickey’s jaw and then latching onto his neck.

Mickey tips his head back and focuses on the feeling of Ian’s mouth instead of the storm brewing in his head that says there’s going to be a fallout. He can’t have something this good without consequences.

Ian breathes into Mickey’s neck and rests his head against his shoulder. ‘We could have been doing this ages ago.’

Mickey smiles and gradually brings his hand up to card his fingers through Ian’s hair. He thinks he’s allowed to do that now.

‘I guess.’

‘Does this mean you’ll come over to see me as well as Lip?’

Mickey bites the inside of his cheek at the tone of Ian’s voice alone because his face is still hidden, buried in Mickey’s neck. ‘Like I wasn’t doin’ that before, Gallagher.’

‘I want to be your best friend, too.’

Mickey raises his eyebrows and watches as Ian draws back to look in Mickey’s eyes. Mickey finds it kind of weird having a conversation like this while Ian’s literally sat in his lap.

‘Two best friends?’ Ian nods and grins. ‘I guess that could work.’

‘Best friends who kiss…' Ian chances, biting his lip. 'Best friends who’re boyfriends…’

And fuck if that doesn’t scare the shit out of Mickey. Doesn’t stop him from kissing Ian again, though.

*

 

**_From: ipL_ **

_i take it your date went well if the hickeys on my brother's neck are anything to go by_

 

**_To: ipL_ **

_fuck u_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry about how much Lip was smirking...  
> Not too sure if that was enough fluff but I hope it was at least a little cute at the end? idk  
> [I'm still taking prompts :)](http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com)


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